


i'm afraid

by crankyjones



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: (kinda), (we don't see anything), M/M, Reunion, Smut, s03e07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:23:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyjones/pseuds/crankyjones
Summary: Lucas can't let Eliott play with him anymore. But when he shows up at his flat, he loses his composure.





	1. you have to choose

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [j'ai peur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973899) by [crankyjones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyjones/pseuds/crankyjones). 



> what *could* happen in episode 7.
> 
> chapter 1: the gang being all cute aka what we deserve  
> chapter 2: elu reunion  
> (one can be read without reading the other)
> 
> in this universe, the coming-out to yann went well and lucas told the gang!
> 
> (version française sur mon profil)

Lucas wanted to redeem himself. He screwed up and apologised, but guilt still was eating him away. Maybe not as much as Eliott’s betrayal, which his brain enjoyed reminding him every time he dared smiling and forgetting, but it was there. So he had to redeem himself. And what was better than inviting his three best friends at the flat to do so? With Mika in some club, Manon at Emma’s and Lisa gone who-knows where for the week, they would be set for the whole night.

Like so, Arthur, Basile, Yann and he were collapsed on the couch—that had also been serving as a bed for a few weeks. The lights were off, and only the one coming from the television was lighting their four focus faces.  
“How many seconds before he falls off the bike?” Basile asked.  
“Three,” Yann declared, categorical.  
“You’re being mean… Let’s say four,” Arthur corrected.  
“Guys, look how he is!” Lucas retorted. “He’s gonna make it.”  
“Dude, him being brawny doesn’t mean he won’t fall.”  
“I never said he was brawny.” He laughed, turning to face the blond on his left.  
“You implied it!”  
“Maybe but I didn’t say it!”  
“Alright, so tell me,” Arthur asked and faced him, his knees up against his chest. “How’s it going with Eliott?”  
“Oh no! Think about the Bechdel test!” Basile straightened up suddenly.  
“What are you talking about?” Yann sighed.  
“The Bechdel test! We’re not supposed to talk about boys all the time!”  
“No, I know what it is, but it’s for girl characters in movies, Basile,” he explained.  
“So what? We still aren’t… Oh my God, Lucas, you were right, he made it!”

Lucas laughed quietly, his lips wrinkled. The weight on his head wasn’t as heavy as it was at the beginning of the week and, in the end, he was relieved to have told the boys. He shouldn’t have doubted them. He was nonetheless glad the topic drifted because his brain was already enough filled with Eliott not to lay it on thick. How did he manage to unsettle him so much without even talking to him?

“So, Eliott?” Yann’s voice called Lucas to order and he looked up at his best friend. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but he took a deep breath instead before exhaling. “You haven’t heard from him?” The boy worried.  
“I have, I have! It’s just that…” Lucas sighed. “He’s everywhere.”  
“Did he talk to you?” Arthur asked, a big smile on his lips.  
“No, he didn’t… Well, not really.”  
“Did he text you, then?” Yann continued.  
“He didn’t either. He put another drawing in my locker, yesterday.”  
“What does he want, exactly? He can’t do that!” Basile got annoyed but Lucas, defeatist, just shrugged. “I’m gonna slap him.”  
“No, that’ll be fine, Basile, thanks,” he laughed.  
“But seriously, what’s up between you two?” Arthur went on.

_What was up between them two?_  
Good question.  
Lucas didn’t know what was up between them two. He wasn’t even sure to know what he wanted to happen between them two—nor if he even _wanted_ something to happen, for that matter. Eliott came, kissed him, slept in his bed. Eliott broke up with his girlfriend to be with him. Then Eliott texted him, “a little fast”, and came back to her as if he never existed, as if nothing had existed since that Friday under the rain.  
And Lucas was lost.

“Nothing at all,” he eventually answered, eyes low. “He has a girlfriend.”  
“Err, by the way, I was wondering…” Basile said. “I don’t wanna hurt you or anything but how do you do to… you know… fuck?”  
His friend’s question managed to make him laugh, along with Arthur and Yann who were laughing uncontrollably. _Thanks, guys_ , he wanted to tell them. _Thanks for making me forget about him, even if it’s just for a few seconds._ “And you, Basile, how do you do?” He asked, trying to somehow calm down.  
Their laughs intensified and completely covered the sound of the television. It felt good to laugh like this. How much time had passed since the last time it happened? Lucas couldn’t even remember, but _God that felt good_.

The euphoria ended up dying and the room fell in a semi-silence troubled by the show’s host’s voice. Lucas’ lips were still wearing a smile—a real smile—and he felt like his cheeks were about to fall off his face because of how much they were hurting.

“Honestly, Lucas,” Yann said then, “you’re letting him play with you. You can’t just let him give you drawings that say you’re his destiny but not do anything concrete.”  
Lucas’ smile fell slowly. He knew Yann was right. He knew he had to do something. He knew it. But pushing him away the other time at the cafeteria called for so much strength, he didn’t think he was able to do it again. Even if it was for his own sake.  
“Wait, hold on; he said he was his destiny?” Arthur exclaimed, overexcited.  
“Yeah, more or less…” Lucas bit his lip. He wished he was in the same state as him. He wished he was happy to know Eliott was still thinking about him, still wanted him. But the truth was, it hurt more than it relieved him.  
“He has to stop playing with you,” Yann insisted.  
“I can’t control what he does.”  
“Yes, you can! You just need to tell him to stop and, if he cares about you as much as he seems, he’ll stop.”  
“Yeah, well, Daphné’s been asking Basile to stop flirting with her for weeks and look where we are now,” Lucas pointed out.  
“But Basile is a drag while Eliott seems like a pretty good guy,” Arthur spoke.  
“Thank you very much, I appreciate it,” Basile mumbled.  
“No! Sweetie, you’re amazing.” The blond straightened his arm over Yann and Lucas’ heads to tousle his hair.  
“You send him a text, you tell him to call if he’s interested, to leave you alone if he isn’t,” Yann ordered.

Lucas looked down. His phone was on his laps, screen downwards. He just had to take it, unlock it, write the text and click on ‘send’. Nothing that changed from his habits—he did that everyday.  
Around him, the boys kept debating on Basile’s ability to flirt but he was only half-listening to them. He took his phone, unlocked it. His eyes stayed stuck for a moment on the last text Eliott sent him. Lucas wouldn’t be able to tell how many times he read and reread it, feeling his cheeks becoming wet from the tears that carried on falling down. After more than a couple weeks, it still hurt. His heart was still clenched at the sight of his words. _“I’m sorry.”_ Lucas didn’t know if he could excuse him. He didn’t know if he could forgive him after all the pain he gave him. What did he do, for fuck’s sake? What did he do for what they managed to build to be reduced to ashes in only a few days?  
His fingers began to write by themselves. Too bad for what he did—no matter what that was. It was too late. It was done. And there was nothing he could do to erase it, even though he’d give everything to make things better.  
Send.

“It’s done.” Lucas’ announcement echoed like a gong in the living room. His friends turned toward him, eyebrows furrowing.  
“What do you mean, it’s done?” Arthur asked.  
“I sent the text.”  
“Well done, Lulu!”  
“So, what did you write?” Yann joined.  
“ _Hey. If you’re not interested in me, I understand, but stop with the drawings. Come see me when you’ve decided. Sometimes, you have to choose_ ,” he read.  
“See, Baz, sometimes, you have to choose. It’s either Daphné or Maria, not both,” Arthur explained, seemingly somewhere else as he was cleaning his glasses with his shirt.  
“Hold on, he just texted back.” And it was true; he barely finished reading what he wrote when a new bubble appeared. Lucas’ heart was pounding wildly, although he wished it wasn’t.  
“So?”  
“ _Where are you?_ ”  
Concerts of “what?”, “seriously?”, “wait, are you kidding me?” reached his ears but his brain was filled with thoughts that turned around, beyond understanding.  
“Fuck, what do I do? What do I respond?” He panicked.  
“Don’t worry, stay cool,” Yann advised. “Text him something simple, like ‘Home.’.”  
“ _Home_ ,” Lucas repeated while typing the words. “‘You can call.’?”  
“No, no! Just ‘Home.’. Even though you do want him to call, you can’t tell him. You need to seem unattainable, you know what I mean?”  
“Alright. _Home_ … Emoji?”  
“No!” Arthur jumped, almost sending his phone at the other end of the room. “Oh, fuck, no. Emojis are creepy.”  
“I agree. Especially the wink,” Basile added, nodding exaggeratedly.  
“You stop with your dirty mind!”  
Lucas took a deep breath and sent the text. As soon as it was done, he locked the screen and dropped the phone on his laps, as if it were going to explode at any minute. “Alright, it’s done. Fuck, what did I just do? Oh God, help me, what the hell did I do?”  
“It’s all good, Lucas. He’s gonna call,” his best friend reassured him. “Just wait a few seconds.”

Lucas nodded. Yes. Yann was right. He was going to call.

But seconds passed. Then minutes. Only the television took the liberty of breaking the silence. Lucas turned the screen on and off constantly, with the hope to see a new text.  
Nothing.  
Eliott didn’t call.


	2. i lied

Lucas didn’t know if the others had forgotten about the texts he exchanged with Eliott, but they stopped talking about it after the three times Yann had asked if he had got anything else. The show would end soon, but he didn’t know what had happened since they went back to watching it. He should’ve known that Eliott wouldn’t call. He had to choose, and he chose Lucille. _Obviously._ As if he had to hesitate. And to think that he had hoped for a moment…  
His phone buzzed against the coffee table, the screen lighted up. All boys bolted up, but no one said anything for a while, nor moved; their eyes were glued to Lucas’ phone.

“Is that… _him_?” Basile asked in a whisper, as if Eliott could appear from nowhere at any time.  
Lucas gulped down. He wasn’t sure he wanted to check. It probably wasn’t even Eliott… Maybe Mika, who said he wouldn’t come home tonight. Or Manon, who had to cancel her sleepover at Emma’s at the last minute. However, he grabbed his phone and unlocked it to find the conversion with Eliott, which he forgot to close earlier. A new bubble. His breath stayed stuck in his lungs when his eyes finished reading the text. “He…” He let out. “He’s here.”  
“What?” Yann asked.  
“Like, here- _here_?” Arthur yelled.  
“I don’t know! Fuck, what do I do?”  
A ringing stopped Lucas in his panic. The ringing of the flat.  
Eliott was downstairs.  
Or it could be Mika, or Manon, or Lisa, or… anyone. Anyone but Eliott.  
Why would Eliott be here, anyway? He probably texted the wrong number; he must have wanted to text Lucille.

Yet, Lucas stood up. When he walked to the intercom that allowed to see who was at the front door, he felt like it was a guillotine, a place of assured death. He gulped and turned the camera on, and his eyes widened when he saw Eliott’s face. His eyes were looking down at emptiness, his fingers were brushing against his lower lip, and he seemed to be moving from one foot to the other, probably because of the coolness of the night. Even like that, he was beautiful. Lucas couldn’t believe it. After so many weeks, he still couldn’t believe that Eliott was real, and even less that Eliott had wanted something with someone like him, although it was only for a few days. He could have whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted; his face was so much naturally perfect that he could own the entire world just by clicking his fingers. His hands and his lips had explored it, searching for some flaw, any flaw; in vain.  
When Eliott looked up, their eyes met through the picture showed by the camera and Lucas felt the flame inside his belly intensify. Just a stare was enough for him to be affected. He fell so low, so abruptly, he didn’t see it coming.

“Fuck, it’s Eliott.” Saying it out loud triggered a switch inside his brain and realisation hit him; Eliott was there, in front of his flat, _for him_. For who else? “Holy shit, it’s Eliott,” he repeated. “You have to go. Now.”  
“What? Why?” Basile complained.  
“Because they’re gonna have sex, here’s why,” Arthur teased while getting up from the couch.  
“We’re not gonna…”  
“Speaking of that, you still haven’t told me how you do it,” the curly-haired boy pointed out.  
“Move! Take the backstairs, at the end of the hallway.”  
“Alright, alright…”  
The ringing resounded a second time and Lucas ran to the three boys to rush them. He held beers and phones, shoes that were lying around in a corner of the living room and kicked them out before they could put them on. “Backstairs right at the end of the hallway. Please. Thanks.”  
“Enjoy your night,” Yann said, making his eyebrows do a weird dance as the two others were running away.  
“Go away!”

Lucas let out a laugh and waved goodbye to his best friend before closing the door and laying against it, breathless. The bell rang again, so he stood up and pressed the button, opening the front door of the flat—not without a moment of hesitation.  
He lived on the third floor. In a few minutes, Eliott would be there.  
Eliott fucking came for him.  
And, suddenly, he remembered everything. Lucille. The text. “A little fast”. The kisses, _the kiss_. The drawings. His destiny.  
Lucas was mad at Eliott, he was so mad at him. He was ashamed of himself for managing to forget about everything he did to him just by looking at him for a moment. The tears were threatening to fall from his eyes when someone knocked on the door.  
He had to wait a second to put up a front and decide to open it.

Eliott was there. With his tousled hair that made him want to let his hand go through it. With his so deep eyes that made him want to get lost in them forever. With his shaped jaw that made him want to outline it. With his slightly open mouth that made him want to kiss him until they couldn’t feel their lips anymore.  
Lucas didn’t do anything. He just observed him, he just waited. Waited for Eliott to say something, anything. Because if he was the one to start talking, he didn’t know if he would manage to hold back his tears, to hold back his words.

“Lucas, I…” Eliott didn’t pronounce any other word, letting a large puff of air enter his lungs instead.  
“Why are you here, Eliott?” Lucas asked. _Why are you trying so hard to hurt me, Eliott?_  
The tears were so close, they couldn’t fall. Not in front of him. Not now.  
And to think that he was so euphoric just a few minutes ago.  
“You told me to come see you when I’d have decided. I have decided.”  
“It wasn’t literally, it was… For fuck’s sake, Eliott. You can’t see how bad you hurt me and you want me to welcome you with open arms?” It was too late for him; Lucas felt a tear roll down his cheek and saw Eliott follow it with his eyes.  
“No, Lucas, I…”  
“Two weeks, two fucking weeks where I haven’t stopped thinking about you, _crying_ thinking about you because yes, you make me cry, Eliott. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat since that fucking text. I go through hell every single day and I don’t understand shit! I don’t understand shit because I know I did something wrong, _I know it_ , I know it so don’t tell me it isn’t my fault, _I know it_.”  
“Lucas… It’s not your fault, it’s…”  
“I’m so sorry, Eliott,” he interrupted him. He had let his tears flow freely and his sobs echoing in the room. “I don’t know what I did but I was so happy and right now, it hurts so much, I feel like I’m dying. I don’t know what I did but I apologise, I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to hurt us. I’m so sorry, Eliott… I…”

Lucas didn’t know exactly when nor how, but his face got buried in the black material of Eliott’s sweatshirt. It wore his smell. It filled his nostrils and he felt his tears redoubling. His words were muffled by the clothing. _Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…_ Again and again. He was.  
Eliott stepped back, both of his hands on each one of his shoulders, and looked at him insistently. Lucas saw small tears by his eyes that also threatened to fall.

“I lied to you, Eliott…” he admitted, his heart clenched by the sobs he was trying to hold back. “I lied to you that night. I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Eliott. I’m afraid because it’s the first time it’s ever happened to me. I’m afraid because I can’t handle this. I’m afraid because _I_ scare myself and because _you_ scare me and because _us_ , that scares me. I… I’m afraid because I can feel myself falling in love with you. And that… that scares me, Eliott… That scares me so fucking much…”

Eliott’s hand travelled up his shoulders and his neck to land on his wet cheeks and Lucas looked up at him. He wasn’t looking better than he was and his lips were wrinkled in a straight line as single tears were falling down his face one after the other. It didn’t stop him from leaning in carefully to gently put his lips on his. His whole body seemed to receive an electric discharge and Lucas felt his limbs loosen up, his heart soothing, his lungs extending as the air finally entered them freely. When he began kissing back, his feet pulled themselves on tiptoe and his hands clung to Eliott’s jacket, as if afraid he was an illusion and would disappear once again if they ever let him go. Their lips were moving together in a such a chaotic way, their teeth were clinging against each other, their tongues were constantly trying to brush against one another and Lucas wanted it to never stop. He wanted to never ever let Eliott leave. Never again.

They however broke away and their eyes, shining with tears, met. Lucas wanted to say something, anything, but the words didn’t want to exit his throat. So then, Eliott made them turn around and closed the door before laying him against it. He was so close, so close to his face. Lucas’ breathing was still struggling to slow down yet he couldn’t help but grab Eliott’s jaw and throw himself against his lips. His hands climbed up in his hair to lower him to his height while Eliott’s were trying to rub against every inch of his body. Goosebumps covered him completely when one of his cold fingers met the naked skin under his shirt and he felt like he was burning. He was burning because Eliott was touching him, he was burning because he wanted Eliott to touch him even more, always more.  
His hands took Eliott’s jacket off of him before his brain could prevent him for doing so and the boy stepped away for a second to look at him with wide eyes. Lucas looked back at him, trying to make him understand everything he felt at that moment, all the love he had for him. Then his shirt landed on the floor, soon followed by Eliott’s sweatshirt, and their lips, their tongues, their teeth met again. Lucas’ fingers were tracing lines on his back, on his shoulders and Eliott’s were on his hips, bringing him closer although their chests were glued together. The residue of their tears were mixing, their hearts were beating, echoing in unison while their bodies seemed to be as one.

With Eliott, Lucas felt himself breathe.  
With Eliott, Lucas felt himself relive.  
With Eliott, Lucas wasn’t afraid anymore.


End file.
